


The Gift

by ObsidiansChild



Series: The Reformation of Eliot Waugh [10]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24663121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidiansChild/pseuds/ObsidiansChild
Summary: Julia wins Eliot's birthday.
Relationships: Kady Orloff-Diaz/Julia Wicker, Margo Hanson/Josh Hoberman, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: The Reformation of Eliot Waugh [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719526
Comments: 5
Kudos: 79





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Good morning. Okay, so this was super hard for me to write. I don't really know why. I hope it doesn't come across that way, and that you all enjoy.

_ Julia _

Julia thanked the driver before stepping out of the car that afternoon, her eyes fixed on the tall, gray house before her. She tried to picture it as the derelict mess it had been before, but it was difficult, having only seen pictures. The only hint it had not always been perfect were the shrubs that bordered the front porch; they were small and had obviously just been planted over the summer. 

Steeling her nerves, Julia ascended the few steps that led to the front door, pressing the antique looking doorbell and hearing it chime within the house. She knew Quentin would be in Pittsburgh for at least another hour, probably more. He had his last appointment with his most recent patient today, a seven-year-old girl named Eliza who he’d fitted with new legs weeks ago. It was hearing Quentin talk about her that had led her here today. Eliot’s belated birthday party wasn’t scheduled to start for another two hours, but she wanted to speak to him first. 

She heard footsteps just before the door opened, revealing Eliot in a satin robe and matching pants, his hair damp across his forehead. He looked mildly confused. “A little early, aren’t you?”

She smiled. “A little, yeah. Can I come in? Promise I won’t distract you for long.”

He opened the door, allowing her inside the long foyer. “I was just finishing the appetizers, but I can give you a short tour on the way,” he offered, swinging to his left. 

Julia followed, her eyes taking in the soft glow of the wood floors and the comforting green walls. Seeing a large framed print of Quentin and Eliot from their wedding, she smiled. “When did your pictures come in? Q didn’t say anything.”

Eliot turned, his eyes pleased as he looked over the photo. “Two days ago; I had the frame ready for that one,” he admitted.

“I don’t blame you,” she replied, looking over the captured moment of the two men in their navy suits, the river visible behind them past the railing of the boat they were leaning against. “I wanted to take more pictures myself, but I think I was too busy throwing up before the ceremony.”

Eliot gave her a sympathetic smile. “Poor Hoolia. I didn’t really account for motion sickness when I booked a boat for a wedding. That’s on me.”

She shrugged. “At least it wasn’t one of you; that would have made for some stories.”

His eyes flared at the thought. “Fuck, I never thought of that,” he laughed quietly.

“Speaking of your wedding, when did you have time to do any of _this?”_ she asked, taking in all the details of the living room. 

“What, the decorating?”

“I mean, yeah, but Q said you did most of the restoration work yourself, too.”

Eliot squinted. “That’s a little generous. I hired contractors for the major stuff: electrical, plumbing, the roof. I didn’t really think any of our neighbors should see me floating shingles around. But outside of that…” He shrugged. “I made time, I guess?”

She shook her head. “Between planning a wedding and working full-time? Sure, no big deal.”

“Well, I didn’t paint, either,” he admitted, a playful light in his eye.

“You know, he sent me pictures of this place before he bought it. I  _ know  _ what it looked like. I guess I never really understood why you went into architecture, though, when all of this seems more like construction to me. But I’m definitely no expert.”

“No, you have a point,” he told her, gesturing for her to follow him out of the room. “It could have gone either way. I mean, to be honest, it could have gone anywhere; I just happened to take interest in Sunderland’s methods. And I prefer design to manual labor.” The look he gave her over his shoulder said that she shouldn’t find that surprising.

Stepping into the kitchen, Julia looked around with an appreciative eye. “God, Eliot, this is beautiful,” she said, running her hand over the shimmering black countertop.

“Oh, that’s actually a good example. This is labradorite,” he said, tapping his finger on the stone. “I chose it because it has excellent properties when it comes to any kind of cooking magic. But it  _ also  _ has the added effect of boosting the protection spells I wove into the glass for the windows. That’s why I like architecture; I get to figure all that out and make it work together. Using the wrong materials can throw everything off. Which is really enjoyable to argue when budgeting comes into play, let me tell you.”

Julia grinned. “Sounds like writing a spell, kind of.”

He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I guess there are similarities, yeah,” he admitted before giving her a suspicious look. “So. Are you going to tell me why you’re here, or am I putting you to work?”

Julia looked over the half-assembled appetizers on the counter. “Um, I could tell you why I’m here, but do you have a cigarette I could have first?”

His brow arched with suspicion. “I thought you quit.”

“Well, technically, but I may need one for this.”

“Sounds dire,” he drawled, but led her out of the kitchen and onto a patio area outside, complete with a large outdoor table, and chairs with very comfortable cushions. Julia seated herself and thanked Eliot when he offered her a cigarette. Once his own was lit, he gave her a reluctant glance. “Let’s hear it, I guess.”

“It’s nothing bad,” she promised, grimacing as the smoke rolled over her tongue. Funny how you could crave something that tasted so terrible. “I just wanted to come to you first with this. Because if you’re against it, I’m not saying anything to Q.” Eliot looked mildly alarmed by that, but said nothing. “And I know this is me butting into your personal life, but ever since he talked to me about Eliza, I haven’t been able to shake it.”

“Eliza. The girl he’s seeing today?”

Julia nodded. “He told me about her after the first appointment, and it just made me think of how good he is with kids, you know? He’d be a great dad, and I really want to see that for him.”

Eliot’s brow furrowed a bit. “Okay. You don’t think I’m trying to stand in the way of that, do you?”

“No!” she cried softly. “God, no. I know you’re on board, and I know you just got married and bought a house together. I’m not talking about tomorrow. I just started thinking of how hard it could be for the two of you, though, when the time comes.”

“Well, the surrogacy ban is being overturned next year,” Eliot told her. “And beyond that, there’s always adoption. It might be stressful, but probably no more than anything else in the last year. I mean, the cost is just short of astronomical, but my husband’s a little loaded,” he said with a grin.

Julia rolled her eyes, smiling through her nerves. “What if it didn’t cost you anything, though?”

Eliot looked confused before he appeared to catch up, his brow wrinkling deeply before a startled smile curled his lips. “You… you’re not saying…”

Her own smile turned teasing. “I’m saying I wanna have your baby, Eliot.”

He choked on his cigarette, a sharp cough escaping him before another tiny smile tilted his lips, borne from disbelief. “Julia…”

“I’m serious.”

He shook his head, his expression turning more serious. “Why? Aren’t you and Kady planning on having your own?”

“Actually, Kady wants to foster. She spent some time in the system growing up. We figure we can help some kids out, and maybe one day…” She shrugged. “I talked to her about this. I didn’t really want to put the offer on the table if she wasn’t okay with it.”

“Fair enough, but… why? We can do this on our own, and the sacrifice is fairly… fucking insane.”

“I just don’t want either of you to go through any heartbreak, you know? You’d be dealing with a stranger. What if she changes her mind and backs out? Or doesn’t involve you enough? I don’t want Q to go through that, or you. I want you to have someone that lets you be a part of it, all the way. And I hope you know I’d never butt in after, or--”

“Of course I know that,” he interrupted, looking mildly offended she’d felt the need to clarify. “I just…” He looked at her helplessly. “Julia, are you sure about this?”

She nodded. “Whenever you decide you’re ready, I’m in. Well. Don’t wait  _ too  _ long,” she teased.

Eliot looked a bit lost, his eyes distant for a long moment before they settled on her again, turning playful. “Well, just to be clear, you wouldn’t be having any baby of  _ mine, _ so no worries there. I already won that argument.”

“Oh, don’t bask in that victory,” she warned, her own eyes dancing. “I’m prepared to go two rounds to make sure my best friend gets that curly-haired baby he wants. I’m mostly doing this for him, you know.”

Eliot’s brow twitched, his eyes darting away from hers before a shocked little laugh escaped him. “Jesus Christ.” A long moment passed before he looked her way again, and after knowing him as long as she had, she knew it was because he still couldn’t quite dare show any strong emotion to anyone that wasn’t Quentin or Margo. “Um. Thank you, though. That’s… a lot. Q will be thrilled.” His voice was rough with emotion, but Julia was kind enough to ignore it.

“And you?”

Eliot only smiled at her, and it was so soft and vulnerable that she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d looked like as a child, or what he’d been through to make such a smile a rare thing. She hoped Quentin got to see it more often than she ever had. 

*

_ Eliot _

Hours later, Eliot was pleasantly buzzed and holding Margo in his arms on the newly purchased sofa that wasn’t black, thank Christ. He really couldn’t recall the last time he’d had an opportunity to cuddle his best friend. Every time they managed to see one another, there was always something that needed their attention. He hadn’t seen her since the wedding, and though they texted one another daily and spoke at least once a week, there was no replacing the peace he felt with her in his arms. It was his favorite birthday gift, really.

Glimpsing Julia leaving the room with Quentin, Eliot sighed softly, trailing his fingers down Margo’s arm. “So, I might need to tell you something, just in case Q loses his mind in a few minutes.”

“What did you do now?” she asked him, sounding amused before she tilted her champagne glass to her lips.

He glared at the top of her head. “Well, if you’re going to be like that, you can just get an announcement in the mail.”

She turned enough to meet his eye. “Okay, sassypants. Spill.”

“Um…” He found it hard not to look away suddenly. “I might be having a kid soon?”

Margo’s eyes widened dramatically. “Don’t be gross,” she said mockingly, slapping at his chest. Searching his face, she blinked several times. “Seriously, though?”

He laughed, nodding. “Julia is actually offering her, uh, services? I think she’s telling Quentin right now.”

Margo gaped. “Fuck! That’s… what are you going to do with a  _ kid?” _

He gave her a helpless look. “Hopefully not fuck it up horribly?”

She grinned, leaning forward to press her lips to his. “Shut up, you’ll be fabulous. Does anyone else know?” she asked, glancing towards Kady, Josh, and Joey, who were across the room, trying to assemble the record player and accompanying shelving Margo had given him for his birthday. He wasn’t sure why they’d taken it upon themselves, but he wasn’t about to argue with them over it. 

“No. Julia wanted to run it by me first; it’s not like he’s going to say no to her.”

“El.” He met her eye, finding a hint of worry there. “You  _ do  _ want kids, right? I mean, you’re not just going along to make him happy, are you?” 

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” he promised, shaking his head. “Not after… Well, you know my storied past. I… think about it sometimes. It could be nice, making a human and not fucking them up?”

“If you say so,” she replied, sticking her tongue out briefly in disgust before she beamed at him. “But I will happily be Auntie Margo.”

Eliot hummed his pleasure at the name, kissing her brow. “So, no little ones for you and Josh, then?” 

Margo looked at him like a dick had just grown out of his ear.  _ “God,  _ no.” Looking to Josh, she huffed out a laugh. “I feel like I’m raising  _ him,  _ half the time. Do you know he had never waxed a single part of his body when we met?”

Eliot grimaced. “Well, now I can assume he has. Thanks for that.”

They settled into silence to watch Kady and Joey argue about the placement of the shelves in the cabinet, with Josh trying to mediate, but when the shelving was finished and Quentin and Julia still hadn’t returned, Eliot began to worry. He left the sofa to walk into the kitchen, looking through the window over the sink to see Quentin and Julia seated outside. Eliot smiled when he saw his husband laughing, and not really needing anything more to calm his nerves, he returned to Margo’s side. 

Another half an hour passed before Quentin and Julia returned, and Quentin only smiled softly at Eliot before taking a seat next to Joey in one of the oversized lounge chairs. Julia joined him and Margo on the sofa, giving Eliot a pleased look.

“I take it things went well?” he asked.

She nodded. “There was minimal blubbering.” 

Margo snickered. “I can’t believe you’re getting yourself knocked up for these two.”

“I mean, I win any argument with Q for the rest of my life, right? I see no downside.”

“Oh, that’s  _ good,”  _ Margo praised her. “You should definitely pull that card the whole time you’re all pregnant and bloated, too.”

Julia grinned, nodding. Eliot rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight his smile. 

The party began dying down just after midnight, with Kady and Julia being the first to head out, telling everyone goodnight and accepting long hugs from Quentin. Quentin and Joey disappeared outside for a while after that, and Margo filled him in on the latest happenings at her job while Eliot listened and watched Josh fall asleep on the loveseat. 

Joey left next, looking mildly freaked out as he said his goodbyes, and Eliot assumed Quentin had broken the news of his impending fatherhood to the man. If he could imagine anyone being less of a parent than Margo, it was probably Joey Gardner. 

Quentin started cleaning up after that, but let Eliot know with a glance that he didn’t mind giving him more time with Margo. Eliot smiled in thanks, finishing the last bit of wine in his glass as he indulged in the time alone with his Bambi. 

He didn’t call an end to their evening until Quentin also disappeared. “I think we’ve killed this party,” he said quietly, gently patting her on the arm to allow him to sit up.

“Well, no one could ever really outlast us, could they?” she replied with a smile as she stood from the sofa, smoothing her maroon dress.

He joined her, stretching a bit to alleviate the soreness in his lower back. “Never. Text me when you’re home?”

She agreed, waking Josh, and Eliot walked the two of them to the front door, remembering to thank Josh for the edibles he’d brought before bolting the door behind them. He went through the first floor turning off lights and checking the bolt on the back door as well before ascending the stairs to the second floor, with its many closed doors. Eliot had only renovated their bedroom and bathroom so far, along with the hallway itself. He hoped to be finished with the second floor by spring, which would allow him to focus on repairing the balcony in nicer weather. 

Slipping into the bedroom, Eliot wasn’t surprised to find the bedside lamp still on. Quentin was reading, mostly covered by their comforter, but what Eliot could see of him wasn’t clothed. “Are you naked under there?” he asked leadingly.

“Aren’t I usually?” Quentin laughed. “I was about to give up on you.”

“You’re really going to give me shit for spending time with Bambi?” he asked as he undressed. 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I actually mind.”

“Hm. Well, you spent most of your night with your  _ two  _ best friends, on  _ my  _ birthday.”

“Your birthday was yesterday,” Quentin threw back, his brow lifting teasingly. “And I seem to recall spending all  _ kinds  _ of time with you.”

“Or on me,” Eliot chuckled, kicking his underwear aside before crawling into bed beside his husband. Quentin set his book aside and rolled to face him, pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Good day?” he asked when he pulled back, searching Eliot’s eyes.

“Yeah. I don’t really think anyone is ever going to best Julia as far as gifts go, though.”

Quentin grinned at that. “No, probably not.”

“You two were gone for a while tonight. Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I just, um. Well, I cried,” he laughed softly, and Eliot smiled because he’d already assumed that. “But after that, we just sort of talked through some details.”

“Such as?”

“Just, you know, how she wants to go about it, stuff like that.”

Eliot arched a brow. “Well, hopefully not the old-fashioned way.”

Quentin’s face flushed in the low light. “Shut up,” he chuckled. “I meant, like, doctors and stuff. Costs.”

“Can’t we just go through Lipson?”

“I mean, probably, but we need to at least ask first. We’re not exactly students anymore.”

“No, but Julia’s on the payroll. I’m sure it would be fine.”

“Probably. But that’s all we really talked about. I know we’re not doing this tomorrow or anything, but I just wanted her thoughts on things.”

“That’s understandable. Q…” Quentin met his eye questioningly. “When  _ are  _ you thinking you want to do this?”

“I mean… I’m really good whenever, but I’m not in a hurry. Whenever you decide, it’s fine.”

Eliot smiled softly at him. “Okay. Would it be too much to ask for a small honeymoon period with you, though? We haven’t even christened all the rooms in the house yet.”

Quentin laughed. “There’s a lot of rooms, El.”

“There are, and I’d like to remodel some of them first, too. But a few months, that’s all I’m asking.”

“That sounds fine,” he assured him, leaning forward to kiss him. It felt like a good-night kiss to Eliot, and he wasn’t quite ready to accept that, letting Quentin know he wanted more with a little tug at his bottom lip. He heard his husband make an appreciative little sound in response, but after a few long, deep kisses, he pulled back. 

“I’m not sure I’m up for anything strenuous,” he admitted, looking disappointed. “Today was a little rough; my hands are fucking killing me.”

Eliot’s brow furrowed. “I thought it was just a follow-up?”

“Yeah, it was supposed to be, but the left leg isn’t taking the way I want it to. She’s having some trouble on it; I’ve got the surgeon there looking over some stuff, and I’m going to see her again in a couple of weeks to see if anything I did today worked.”

“You didn’t say anything.” Eliot smoothed his hair back from his face. 

Quentin smiled. “It was your party, El. It didn’t need immediate attention. Besides, I’m fine. It’ll work, it’s just a bump in the road. They happen.”

Eliot knew by now that this was true of Quentin’s work. He also knew Quentin didn’t take that fact well when a child was involved; sometimes the prosthetic didn’t take, some internal circumstance of the patient not able to merge with the spells involved. It was a rare thing, but it had happened before. 

Shifting his intentions, Eliot reached for Quentin’s hand under the comforter, bringing it up between them to begin massaging it. 

Quentin sighed, his eyes falling shut. “El, you don’t have to.”

“Hush. I want to take care of you; I’m just changing the appendage I planned to focus on, is all.” He smiled when Quentin chuckled. 

“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow,” he said, eyes still closed. “We’ve got… seven rooms left?”

“You’re leaving out the basement.”

“No way are we fucking in that basement.”

“Well, not until I finish it out, no.”

Quentin opened his eyes then. “You’re going to finish the basement out?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we already have  _ tons  _ of room, maybe?”

Eliot shrugged a bit, his fingers still kneading the muscle of Quentin’s hand. “Well, if we’re going to have kids running around, we don’t want them roaming around some dank hold in the ground. Besides, basements are creepy when you’re little. I remember.”

“You had a creepy basement?”

Eliot nodded. “More like a cellar, but yeah. Think  _ Evil Dead,  _ but somehow worse.”

“Yikes. I guess it would be good not to traumatize our future children, then.” Quentin smiled then, his eyes full of adoration that froze Eliot’s moving fingers. “You’re going to be great at this, you know.”

Overwhelmed by his husband’s faith, Eliot released his hand, lifting the other one to continue his massage. “We’ll see.”

“Yeah, we will,” Quentin promised. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
